U3A Writing: A Writer And His Story
Lee Cohen imagines a conversation between a story and the writer who is trying to write it.
Writer
‘Come to me story, but be short and precise. You won’t though will you? Alright. I have no choice but to approach you. I take two steps and you take one. It’s quite difficult, I have to stretch and pull and still you don’t meet me. Come now, please. No? What stubbornness and arrogance. Don’t you like my materials; is it my computer? Or what, then? You are happy to stay put, warm and secure, one step was too much. Revealing yourself to me is painful, you are painful.
Story, I don’t want to take anything you wish to hold onto, understand this. Just surface and I’ll be satisfied.’
Story
‘You want me to surface. Ha, ha, ha, what a joke. What do you want from me, writer? Prosperity, fame, diversion? Or do you merely require me for a little light cleansing? I don’t care to be your Cleansing Depot. As a matter of fact I am safe and secure down here and do not wish to be stirred. I don’t feel like getting dressed either. Your taste in garments is just not my style and people may see me as I really am not! Besides you writers lie a lot. I know that too many heads will read me and not enough hearts, and I don’t want to be trapped into heads; so there are many reasons for me not appearing!’
Writer
‘You irritate me, story. Don’t be so blasé. What do you know about heads, your own head never fitted properly and as for your heart, sort out the tubes and then we’ll talk. Garments, you say. Huh! I use colour and plenty of it, that’s what scares you, you are dark and fearful. If I brought you out you would have room for change. But you don’t want that, do you.
So stick in your corner with all the dust and cobwebs. Don’t bother to freshen up and see some light, I will go elsewhere to explore and I’m sure I will find something less tainted than you.
Who wants a story with complexes anyway?
Story
‘Complexes, cobwebs. What do you mean by that? What a confounded cheek. I am no more complexed than any other great piece of literature.
Writer
‘Great piece of literature! You’re not a great piece of literature! You’re not even literature! You’re a bit of old alphabet at the moment desperately seeking a frame that you don’t care to fit into! Anyway I’m sick of you and I don’t wish to continue this futile discussion.’
Story
Oh, but I definitely wish to continue. I’m just beginning to enjoy myself. Now then, what makes you so sure that I don’t want to get cleaned up? You writers are so sure of yourselves aren’t you! Have you really any ideas on what to do with me? Manipulation is heavy, don’t like it, too tiring, but turn me into something appealing and we’re in business!’
Writer
‘Business? Hmm! A partnership!
Okay. Come letters, words, all of you. We have a story to write and we will tell the readers how it all begins.’
